Children of the Nephilim
by Cenire
Summary: Based on Genesis 6:4, my take on what it was like for the children of these angels descended from heaven.
1. Chapter One

**Children of the Nephilim**

_And when they saw the Daughters of Eve,_

_They descended from the heavens._

_The women beheld them and left the Sons of Adam._

_The Nephilim took the Daughters of Eve into the valley beyond the plains_

_And they lay together as man and woman._

_The times were peaceful, for the valley was a place of plenty._

_The Daughters of Eve soon grew round with child, and the Nephilim rejoiced._

_The first Child of the Nephilim was born under the full moon._

_A fire was lit and the Daughters of Eve danced with the Nephilim._

_The first child was not alone for long.  Brothers and sisters were born every day and there was much joy._

_The Children of the Nephilim were fair of face and lithe of body._

_Their laughter filled the valley._

_This was a time of joy._

            T'lem's sister was the first child of the Nephilim.  It was her birth that was so celebrated that night of the full moon.  T'lem often heard of the festivities of that night – his mother told the story every chance she got; the fires, the feasting, the dance.  She said it went on for days.  She said the account in the Book of History didn't do it justice.  T'lem's mother didn't think Akai heard the stories of her birth.

            Akai heard.

            As the firstborn Akai had an understood privilege with the adults and an unchallenged position of authority among the other children.  T'lem thought Akai was just bossy.

            "T'lem, I want your piece of fruit.  T'lem, fetch Jachim.  T'lem, fix my sandals."  And so on.

            T'lem had taken to hiding with Masak, the chosen of his mother's sister.  Masak, like all the Nephilim, lived in his own hut so T'lem could linger there without fear of discovery.  Masak and T'lem didn't speak very much when they were together like this.  Sometimes they worked with their hands crafting small necessities.  Sometimes they prepared food.  Sometimes they just sat together in the silence and peace of Masak's secluded home each enjoying the sense of they others' inner calm.

            Rarely, Masak would tell stories of the before-time, of the time when there were no children.  Even more rarely, of the time before Masak and his kin spirited away the daughters of Eve.  T'lem loved to listen to Masak talk.  His voice had a music to it that made his stories sound like song.

            So it was one day that when Masak intoned, "T'lem" that T'lem nearly dropped the wooden bowl he was shaping and polishing.

            "T'lem, do you know who you are?"

            "I am T'lem, son of Selas and Juai."

            "More than that."

            T'lem put the bowl down and looked up.  Masak was staring, something her rarely did.  There was intensity in his eyes that T'lem had never seen.

            "I am son of Selas of the Nephilim and Juai, daughter of Eve, brother to Akai, having walked this valley for 13 years."

            "Do you know what I am, T'lem?"  Masak was still staring at T'lem, his eyes boring into the soul of the boy.

            T'lem looked puzzled.  "The Book of History says the Nephilim descended from the heavens, enticed by the daughters of Eve."

            "Do you know of the sons of Adam?"

            T'lem shrugged and looked down, picking up his bowl again.  Clearly, this conversation was not going to be another of Masak's interesting stories.  "They were the partners of the daughters of Eve, before the… before you and your kind came.  I have never seen one."  T'lem was once again intent on shaping the curve of the bowl around a knot.

            "Pray you never do."  T'lem felt his blood go cold.  He looked up to see Masak staring at him.  The child was held fast by the Nephilim's gaze for a few heartbeats before Masak returned to his carving.  T'lem felt the air change as if a storm was blowing in.  He shivered.


	2. Chapter Two

Akai had come to collect T'lem several hours ago.  Masak had worked in silence since the children had left.  The sun set, the fires were lit, the hours passed.

Gradually, Masak became aware not of a noise, but the absence of noises.  The muscles of his shoulders twitched reflexively.  Masak gripped a large staff with one hand and slowly slipped his head out the door.  The moon was nearly full, bathing the valley in an eerie half-light.  For Masak, the dimness didn't matter.

The stillness was all-encompassing, as thought every living thing in the valley had paused.  Masak was uneasy.  He stepped out of his hut towards the path that ambled over the hill and out of the valley.

_And then the Sons of Adam,_

_Searching for the Daughters of Eve_

_Came upon the valley_

_And did not return to the plains._

"Myamma, Myamma!"  Akai ran shrieking into the hut.  "Myamma, Masak and Selm have gone into the woods carrying sacks of grain!"

"Sacks of grain?"  Juai looked up from the vegetables she was cutting.  "Akai, do not spy.  And do not wander after dark.  There are strange things about these days."  Juai shivered.

"But Myamma--"

"Please don't argue, Akai.  Cut these up."  Juai handed Akai a handful of tubers.  Akai carried them across the room and deposited them in front of T'lem.  

"Cut these."

"You cut them yourself."

"I will if you tell me what you were talking to Masak about all day today."

T'lem shrugged.  "Nothing really.  He asked me if I knew about the sons of Adam.  He told me to pray I never met one."

Akai became uncharacteristically silent.  "Akai?  Did you cut those tubers yet?" Juai asked.  "Dinner is almost cooked."  And, strangely enough, Akai cut them without another word.

--

"Thank you, my brother."  Masak gave Selm's shoulder a heartfelt squeeze as the last of the pyre died to embers.

There was a rustle of feathers.  "We do what we must.  These measures are... distasteful, but the children..."

            Masak shuddered and there was a wet crunching noise.  "We do what we must," Masak agreed.  "These years have been idyllic but soon, soon it will be time to act again."

Selm began to kick soil on the embers.  "The daughters of Eve as well?"

"No, though I find it pains me to say it.  Just the children."

"Couldn't a compromise be reached?"

"Don't try to compromise with his plans.  Have you forgotten the Morning Star?"

"No.  Nor will I ever."  Selm shrugged awkwardly as though rearranging a heavy burden on his shoulders, though there was none to be seen.  "We should return."  He paused, staring at the nearly invisible ashes.  "Wild animals?"

"Indeed."

"The meat?"

"Tainted."

"I think we're in over our heads, Masak."

"Fly away then."

"You know I cannot."

"Then faith, brother."

"Faith."

"Come."  They departed.


End file.
